Harry felt himself land hard on a cold stone floor in an unfamiliar home. Moving quickly, he steadied himself and looked around in hopes of figuring out where the pensieve had taken him. Snape had, of course, entered with him, and the man still had a tight grip on Harry’s arm. Wrenching himself free, Harry turned in an effort to pull away from the elder wizard. He stopped short, however, when he saw a girl in the far corner of the room. She was young, maybe in her late teens or early twenties, with long dark hair that fell in loose waves around a face that looked tired, but otherwise fairly pretty. In her arms, she held a tightly wrapped bundle of blankets, and it was a second before Harry realized that it was a baby. She was looking down at the child, but Harry could tell that her attention wasn’t really on the baby. When she looked up, her black eyes sparked with barely suppressed rage.

"Severus," she hissed, "what do you expect me to do?"

"What did you expect me to do?" Harry heard a familiar voice and noticed for the first time that another Snape occupied the room with them. Harry snorted. Snape’s memory version was younger, definitely, and a bit thinner, but still just as greasy-haired and bat-like as ever.

"There was no choice," Snape stated. "She and I were both dead unless I did it." He spoke frankly, openly, and without regret. "You know that the Dark Lord would have seen a refusal as the gravest insult, and he would have killed me. Without question."

The dark haired girl sighed. Cradling the infant in one arm, she slowly reached up to cup the child’s face in the palm of her free hand. The gesture was a small one, and probably nothing out of the ordinary, but still, Harry felt his breath catch in his throat. Was that how a mother held her child? Was that how his mother had held him all those many years ago? In that brief instant, Harry felt himself consumed with an ache that had long ago faded into memory ... the desire to be loved by a parent. He watched, transfixed by the scene, until the girl’s stress-filled voice broke the silence.

"Is she sure that it’s yours?"

Harry wondered who they were talking about. Harry didn’t quite know what they were talking about, but he was starting to become a little uneasy with the conversation.

"No," sighed memory-Snape. "there is a chance that it is his. We won’t know until further along." Snape paused, as if weighing his next words carefully.

"If it is mine, what would you have me do? Would you have me claim it?"

The girl’s response was immediate. "No!" she hissed. "No. Let her deal with it. We have our family already. We don’t need any extra complications - things are complicated enough, as they are."

The force of her denial took Harry by surprise, and he had the distinct impression that she was holding back tears. But even that knowledge wasn’t enough to dampen the anger that flared in chest.

"So, that’s it. The git got someone else pregnant," he thought bitterly.

Harry knew the girl’s attitude was probably her way of protecting her family. But still, the selfishness of her response struck a nerve. It bothered him that she was so quick to brush off a life - like the potential child had nothing to do with her or her husband. A nuisance, really... not worthy of having the great Severus Snape as a father... But, as fast as these thoughts came to him, they were followed by another, more disturbing thought.

"Wait...Snape told me that he’s my father..." The horror of the situation was slowly dawning on him. Harry watched the scene unfold before him. Memory-Severus was standing in front of the girl, cupping her face in his hand in much the same way the girl had held her baby’s face. It was an oddly intimate gesture, and one that made Harry deeply uncomfortable. More than anything, he wanted to leave this memory, but he couldn’t because the blasted git still had his arm in a vice-grip that kept him from throwing himself bodily out of the pensieve. Younger Snape was talking again, this time consoling the girl.

"You are my wife," he stated quietly, but firmly. Looking down at the baby in her arms, he continued, "and this is our son. No one else matters. Not now, and not in the future."

"But it would be yours," she continued, "and he might force you to claim it. And it might draw his attention to Caden..."

The memory was fading, but not before Harry heard Snape’s reply, "I would help her hide it," he said simply. "And I would ask Dumbledore to obliviate anyone who knew the truth, ourselves included. It would be Potter’s child, not mine. Never mine...."

As the scene faded, Harry felt himself wrenched off his feet and once again propelled forward in a swirling mass of color and sound until, quite suddenly, he found himself in the Headmaster’s office with Snape beside him. Harry could feel the man’s eyes on him, but Harry refused to look at him. Instead, he focused his attention on the people, the memories, that surrounded him. As usual, the Headmaster was behind his desk, hands folded gently in front of him, and a pensive look on his face. Memory-Snape was also present, speaking to the Headmaster in a quiet, yet determined manner. Finally, Harry saw two others in the room, and it only took one a moment for him to realize who he was looking at. Lily, heavily pregnant, sat next to James. They were both listening attentively to Snape as he talked about the Dark Lord. Harry, however, couldn’t have cared less about what was being said - his parents were right in front of him. Right there. Close enough to touch...

"Mom, Dad..." Harry started forward, but Snape had gripped his arm and pulled him backwards.

"Potter," he hissed. "They’re not real." Harry tried to pull away, but Snape wouldn’t let go. "They’re not real," he repeated again as he steered Harry’s attention back to the conversation.

"Now pay attention. You’ll want to hear this part."

Memory-Snape was still talking about the Dark Lord. It seemed to Harry that Snape was, if nothing else, consistent. He was a greasy, Voldemort-loving bat when he was young, too.

"He knew how much I hated James," memory-Snape stated, "and that’s why he gave Lily to me. As a reward, of sorts," he finished. Leaning his head back, the younger man closed his eyes and sighed. "It was not my intention to hurt Lily, or create the situation we now find ourselves in. I regret that I wasn’t able to alert the Order sooner..."

"Severus, you did everything you could, and the Order responded to Lily’s capture as quickly as humanly possible." Professor Dumbledore stated. "Time was not on our side, and you had no choice but to act as Voldemort expected. Nevertheless, we are now faced with the realities of biology."

Dumbledore paused for a moment, as if expecting someone to comment. But no one did. Sighing, the elderly wizard continued.

"Well then, I understand that you have reached an agreement about the impending child?"

For the first time since entering the memory, Harry heard his mother’s voice. "Yes," she stated, looking directly at the Headmaster. "We have decided to use a Heritage potion in combination with a paternity charm." Lily reached out and set a small, clear vial of opalescent liquid on the Headmaster’s desk.

"James and I brewed the potion and Severus will cast the paternity charm," she stated. "This should create an illusion that is virtually undetectable. James and I will raise the child."

Dumbledore nodded thoughtfully, and then turned to Severus, "A powerful, yet relatively untested, combination," he stated. "If I recall, the scant amount of research done suggests that long term use might have some negative effects on the subject. Also, the effects of removing the illusion are currently unknown. Have either of you considered these issues?" Severus and Lily glanced at each other, but only Lily spoke.

"There could be some potential consequences, although we can’t be sure what they would be." Lily rose, somewhat awkwardly, and begun to pace behind her chair. Harry could see the distinct bulge at her midline. It was a surreal feeling - watching the memory of his dead mother pace the room while pregnant with a child that would one day become himself. Harry shook his head, watching as Lily reached down to rub her stomach before continuing her explanation.

"Research suggests that the illusion will be a constant drain on the child’s magical abilities," she stated. "It’s also possible that it will be strong enough to alter the texture of the genetic makeup if it’s left on long enough. So, there’s some concern that removing it after a lengthy time could damage the child, perhaps magically or physically." Lilly shook her head. She was clearly frustrated with the lack of certainty.

"In short, we don’t know the full effects of the illusion, or how his mind and body will react if it’s ever removed," she finished quietly before looking to Snape for confirmation.

"Lily is correct," memory-Snape stated. "The longer the illusion is in place, the more James’ DNA will become part of the child. We don’t know what will happen when - if - ," Snape corrected himself, "it’s ever removed. The results are, at best, uncertain, especially given the mediocrity of the Potter gene." Memory-Snape virtually spat the last comment out, as if talking about Potter heredity left a sour taste in his mouth.

James was on his feet in an instant. "Just wait, Snivellus. If you’re still teaching that stupid potions class when my son comes to Hogwarts, you’ll see how much of a Potter he really is. He’ll be able to make you look like an ass even when he’s ignoring you, which will probably be all of the time since you’re such a git. I might sneak into his first potions class to watch, just for the fun of it..."

Snape’s wand was out, followed in an instant by James’. Dumbledore, however, had apparently had enough. Waving his hand idly, both wands flew to his desk.

"Now, gentlemen, I believe we were discussing the possibility of removing the illusion..."

"It will not need to be removed," James hissed. "There is no reason for Snivellus to have anything to do with my child."

Snape’s face flushed red. "It is only yours because I permit it to be so," he bit back. "The illusion cannot work without my consent."

"Enough." Lily’s spoke softly, but it carried enough authority to quiet the bickering men. "For the illusion to be effective, you need to participate without hesitation, Severus. If you have any doubts, speak them now."

His response was quick and certain. "No, I have no doubts. We’ll craft the illusion and the blasted, brain-damaged child will be Potter’s curse to deal with. Not mine." And with that, Snape sat down, stretched out in his chair, and eyes closed as if the discussion no longer concerned him.

Harry watched the memory before him, transfixed by the scene he was witnessing. Did it really happen? Did they all really sit there in their comfortable chairs and talk about him like he wasn’t a person? The rational part of him knew that, at the time the conversation took place, he wasn’t even born. But still, it was a bit unnerving to hear them talking not only about hiding his paternity, but also about the possibility that he might be irreversibly"damaged" by their choice to do so. It was almost unreal.

"This is crazy," Harry thought, "Dumbledore wouldn’t risk me... wouldn’t risk anyone... like that..." but in the next instant, the thought was pushed out of Harry’s mind as the headmaster rose and walked around the front of his desk.

"Very well, then," Dumbledore began. Harry couldn’t help but think there was a somewhat calculating look in the old wizard’s eyes. "Voldemort is already aware of Lily’s pregnancy and he has suspicions. The prophesy has been made, and while he is as of yet unaware of it, Voldemort may try to force Severus to claim the child if he has reason to suspect James is not the father. I believe he would find it humorous to do so. Even in light of the potential consequences to the child, I believe it is best to proceed. We will do so now. Severus, I would like you to stay behind after we are through placing the illusion."

Harry was so engrossed in the memory that the sharp tug from his professor startled him. They were leaving the memory, and Harry felt the world around him melt as the memory disappeared. Looking around, Harry found himself in the Headmaster’s office, with present day Snape beside him, because everything - the office, the headmaster, Fawkes, everything - looked exactly like it normally did. Dumbledore was behind his desk, eyes twinkling irritatingly from behind his half-moon spectacles. Through the picture window, Harry could see the quidditch pitch blanketed in fresh, powdery snow. The only thing that gave it away as a memory was the second Snape sitting stiffly in front of the Headmaster.

"Brilliant," Harry thought, "two of him at one time..."

"This is the most recent scene I have to show you, Potter..." The potions master’s unpleasant drawl was hot in his ear. Harry could hear the Dumbledore talking. As he listened, a cold band seemed to settle over his chest, becoming tighter and tighter with each passing word the Headmaster spoke.

"Harry is your son, Severus. As such, decisions regarding parenting are yours to make. I will not interfere..." the Headmaster stated, but Harry was having difficult time breathing. He couldn’t make everything out. There was something about revealing the relationship... The Headmaster was still talking...

"You agree to refrain from relinquishing custody of Harry for any reason," Harry heard the Headmaster’s voice as if from far away. His head was pounding, and he wanted nothing more than to turn away...to blot out the voices and the images that were suffusing his mind...

The memory was fading around him... Dumbledore was still talking... "and you will assume full responsibility for him, both during the school year and during holidays and breaks..." Harry’s mind was reeling, he could barely hear the last part, and what he did hear, he wished greatly to forget...

"You will need to reign him in, Severus...." The Headmaster’s disembodied voice followed Harry as he stumbled out of the pensive, once again in the Potion Master’s office. Looking around, he saw his professor standing by his desk, smirking.

"Well, well" Severus mocked, "here we are, father and son, together again in the present." His face was impassive, but the Potion’s Master’s voice dripped with scorn. "Tell me, Mr. Potter... or perhaps I should say, Mr. Snape... what did you think of Dumbledore’s willingness to just hand you over to me? He gave me much freedom with you, wouldn’t you agree? He said I am to explain to you how to obey authority..." Severus advanced on Harry quietly, watching his reaction with sharp, cold eyes.

"You are a liar," Harry hissed. "I know memories can be manipulated. Hermione told me. Did you really think showing me few stupid memories that you’ve messed with would make me think that you’re my father?" he spat.

"Trust me, dear son, those memories are real. I’ll leave them in the pensieve and you can peruse them at your leisure. I’m sure it will be such fun for you."

Snape’s condescending tone grated on Harry’s nerves, but he was determined to ignore the man. Instead he moved steadily toward the door. He wanted out, but before he did so, he was going to make once thing perfectly clear to the greasy haired bat standing in front of him.

"James Potter was my father," he hissed, his voice quiet and controlled, despite the anger roiling in the pit of his stomach. "You can’t change that. I’m going to tell Dumbledore, and you’re going to be fired."

And with that, Harry yanked open the door and bolted out of the room, leaving Snape leaning quietly against his desk, nursing an oncoming headache.

As Snape watched the boy bolt from the room, he rubbed his head. Things were going to be much uglier than he had imagined. Not that it bothered him - he rather enjoyed baiting Potter. But still, was time and energy away from more important things. Plus, the brat just annoying. He was had a foul temper and a deliberate stubborn streak, not to mention the child was damn near obtuse. If it were up to him, Severus knew he would have nothing to do with the child. But, it wasn’t entirely up to him.

Sighing, Severus returned to the seat behind his desk and picked up the fourth memory vial that was still left unopened on his desk. He swirled the contents around, examining it as though hoping to find a solution to the present dilemma somewhere in the churning mass of thoughts contained therein. Pulling the cork, he gently tipped the contents into the pensieve and watched as the ghostly figures swirled about in the bowl. He had considered showing Potter these memories, too, but in the end, decided against it. Even after all of these years, it still made him angry, and as much as he wanted Potter to know certain things, Severus just didn’t feel like reliving them. Not today anyway. The brat was on his way to see Dumbledore, and Severus knew he would be needed in the Headmaster’s office. Setting the pensive aside, he straightened his robes and waited for the Headmaster to fire-call him.